And A Cupid For You
by XkabarjohnX
Summary: And to think, it all started with a fake cupid. Sterek
1. Chapter 1

The door slammed shut as Derek toed his boots off, then leaned back against it, sighing heavily. He was clenching and unclenching his hands, eyes closed. He took another deep breath before walking into his living room.

He didn't get very far, though. The muffled sound of the TV reached his ears and he lowered himself down into a crouch, claws growing sharp and fangs piercing through his gums.

A loud, wet pop and a sigh sounded. "Welcome home, sourwolf."

Derek pulled his brow down as he slowly made his way into the living room. He could only see the silhouette of a person sitting on his couch, a commercial quietly playing. The sour smell of alcohol wafted up his nose, a hint of worry and fear following suit.

"Who are you?" he demanded, stepping a little further into the room.

"That's a nice welcome," came the sarcastic reply. Derek let out a low growl. "Oh, don't get feisty now. I'm not looking for a fight."

"Then what are you doing here? And who are you?"

The TV suddenly turned off, sending the room into blackness save for the street light attempting to shine through the blinds. The silhouette on the couch vanished and Derek's eyes darted around the room. He moved slowly, cautiously, hunched over and ready to pounce.

The light flickered on overhead and Derek spun to face the entrance. A young lanky man stood beside the light switch, one hand holding a bottle of champagne and the other resting on the switch. Amber eyes met his, a flicker of amusement dancing across them.

Derek growled and darted toward him, but the man vanished, causing him to scratch paint off the wall.

A whisper sounded behind him, "Missed me." Derek twisted around, thrusting his claws out, then stopped. The man was standing a few feet away, unaffected. "Is that the best you got?"

"Who the hell are you and why are you in my home?!"

"I really shouldn't tell you. But I'm already close to getting fired, so who cares?" The man threw his head back, lips tight around the champagne bottle and he took a few gulps. He wiped the back of his sleeve across his mouth once done and smirked. "I'm a cupid called Stiles. I'm here because you are going to literally ruin my life."

Derek raised one eyebrow, but stayed in his predatory position. "Cupid is just a myth. Now, who are you really?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Fine. Don't believe me. But my name really is Stiles and you're screwing up my life."

Claws shortening and fangs receding back into his gums, Derek crossed his arms over his chest. "How so?"

"Because if I can't get you a mate, I'm gonna lose my job!"

"What."

"You heard me!" The younger man moved into the werewolf's personal space, an accusatory finger inches from Derek's nose, the strong scent of champagne filling his nostrils. "This is all your fault! If you could actually communicate and not constantly have your head up your ass I wouldn't be here!"

A growl slipped past Derek's lips as he glared back at the boy. "You have the guts to talk to a werewolf like that in his own home? An Alpha werewolf?"

"Damn right I do!" Derek let another growl slip out as he dropped his arms to his sides and stood a little straighter, getting himself an inch away from Stiles' face. The boy narrowed his eyes, not backing down. "Don't flash your angry red eyes at me. That does nothing."

"Get out."

The boy's heart-shaped lips lifted into a smirk, that spark of amusement flaring in his eyes. "Nope." Derek snarled and shoved past him, making his way toward his bedroom. "I know about Paige." He came to a halt, his blood freezing in his veins as his eyes widened. A loud gulp sounded, quickly followed by a loud sigh. "I know she's the reason you gave up on dating. But you keep torturing yourself because of your pack. That and you're the last Hale. Kinda need some kids to keep that name going."

Derek pulled his lips over his fangs as they dropped down and spun around, practically flying across the room and slamming both fists into the opposite wall, caging Stiles in. He roared in the boy's face, a flicker of smugness igniting in him when the boy flinched and cowered against the wall.

"How dare you!" His voice dripped with anger, words slightly muffled through his fangs. "You come into my home and act as though you own the place. I don't care who you are or what you want. Just get out or I'll throw you out!"

Wide amber eyes stared up at him as he breathed heavily through his mouth, trying to keep his wolf at bay. He could feel it pacing and howling in the back of his mind, and if he wasn't careful, it would slip out and do who knows what.

He paused when he noticed tears filling the boy's eyes, bottom lip trembling. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean any trouble. It's just... my dad... I had to..." Before Derek could blink, panic surged up his nostrils and he reared his head back at the sudden change of smell. He faintly heard the champagne bottle crack as it hit the floorboards, the sound of quickened breathing and a rapid heartbeat overpowering anything else.

Stiles was gripping his head as tears rolled down his cheeks, body shaking, chest heaving. Derek heard his wolf let out a loud whine and he quickly turned human again, mind going a mile a minute. Inhaling once to calm himself, he gently grabbed the boy's biceps and bent over slightly.

"Stiles!" The boy's heartbeat skyrocketed, causing Derek to clench his jaw in frustration. "Stiles, calm down! Breathe with me! In and out. In and out." He pulled one of the boy's hands over onto his chest, right above the heart, and continued his mantra until the boy had calmed down.

"Thanks..." The boy muttered, his gaze lowered.

"What was that about?" Derek tried to make his tone gentle, but it came out harsher than he intended and his wolf growled.

Stiles slid down to the floor, wrapping his arms around his legs. "It's so stupid. We were so stupid. I didn't know what was gonna happen... Or that it would..."

Derek put a firm hand on the boy's knee as he crouched down in front of him. "Slow down before you throw yourself into another panic attack. Start from the beginning."

A sigh escaped the boy's lips and glanced up at Derek through his lashes. "I recently got into supernatural stuff. Like werewolves, witches, demons, all that jazz. One night, I convinced my friend to do a ritual with me. The website I'd found it on had said it was fake, a fun game or something. I'd even checked other websites and none of them said it was real!" The werewolf squeezed his fingers slightly on the boy's knee when Stiles breath hitched. "Well... we did it. Nothing happened, we laughed it off and just hung out like we normally would.

"But the next day, a deputy showed up at my place and said my dad, the sheriff, was gone. His cruiser was still at the station, his desk still in use as if he'd just walked away. So I went to call my friend for help, but when I got to my room, some woman was there. She told me I had do this for her or she would kill my dad.

"I didn't want to do it, I really didn't. I did all the research I could on her and the only thing that pulled up was... was that she's a demon. She said she'd let him go if I found you a mate." Stiles eyes met Derek's, fear and panic dancing just beneath their surface. "Look, dude, I didn't even know who you were, but she has my dad and she won't let him go until this is done!"

"So you made a deal with a demon," Derek summarized, his voice void of any emotion. "A demon that you summoned."

Stiles' heart skipped a beat, then started pounding in his chest, panic permeating off of him. "All my resources said it was a fake!"

The werewolf took a breath and leveled his gaze with Stiles'. "If you made a deal with a demon, why did you call yourself a cupid?"

Pink colored the young man's cheek as he turned away. "I didn't have much time before she sent me here... It was the best I could come up with."

"And the champagne?"

"Mostly for looks." Derek raised an eyebrow when Stiles glanced at him. "Okay, not really for looks... I've been freaking out this entire time and I found some in your pantry - seriously, dude, your pantry? What if you had kids?" Stiles swallowed nervously at the look Derek gave him. "I didn't get a chance to take my Adderall and it helped calm me down, okay?"

"How do you know all that about me?"

"The demon told me. I swear I wasn't stalking you! I mean, not that I would, 'cause I'm not a stalker! My best friend, Scott, on the other hand-"

"Stop talking," Derek snapped as he stood, glaring at the wall. His wolf was pacing again, restless. One thing didn't seem add up, though. He glanced down at the mole-dotted boy. "How did you move across the room so fast earlier?"

"Uh, it's a secret?" Stiles gave him a hopeful grin that quickly vanished when a low, rumbling growl vibrated in Derek's chest. "Okay, fine. The real reason I got into the supernatural is because I have a spark. Not like fire or anything. But like a spark of-"

"Magic," the werewolf finished for him. Stiles eyes widened in surprise and he stumbled to his feet.

"Yeah, how'd you know?!" Derek gave him an incredulous look. "Right, werewolf. Guess I drank a bit too much of the champagne..."

Rolling his eyes, he stepped away from the boy and started to pace the room, his wolf itching underneath his skin. "Did the demon give you a time limit?"

"Not that I remember. Why? You familiar with them?"

"Not really. I've only heard stories. But I wouldn't be surprised if it did."

"Oh. Well, how are we supposed to stop her then? Unless you have a mate in mind?"

"It doesn't work like that for us, for werewolves. We all have mates, a person that we're destined to be with for the rest of our lives."

"Like a soulmate."

Derek stared at him for a moment, sorting through his thoughts. "Similar, yes. We don't get to pick our mates. They're chosen for us. But not all werewolves have mates."

"And you thought you didn't have one, even after Paige..."

Stiles jumped back slightly when the wolf gave him a sharp look. "How do you know that?"

"Based off all of the information the demon gave me, I just kinda figured it out," he mumbled, voice shaking slightly.

Derek stalked over to Stiles, heartbeat racing. "What all did it tell you about her?"

Stiles seemed reluctant, his eyes shifting as he fumbled with the hem of his shirt. Derek let a growl slip and the dam opened, "She said that you two had been dating for a while and you were convinced she was your mate. But on prom night, you two got into a car accident and she was on the brink of death. You rushed her to your mom, who was the alpha at the time, and begged her to turn Paige, but she didn't. She told you that Paige was too weak and the best thing you could do was put her out of her misery. But your dad did it for you and-"

"Enough!" The room seemed to shake at Derek's roar, his voice breaking slightly from emotion. He turned away from the human as he tried to pull himself back together.

Stiles voice was quiet when he spoke again. "Paige told you to move on. But you promised her you wouldn't, even if you found your mate. Why?"

Derek closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. His chest felt like it was being squeezed, like he couldn't breathe. "Because she was my first love."

"But isn't your mate supposed to be everything to you? Even trump any love you have for someone else?"

Derek sighed. "Yes. That's how I felt about her."

"Which is why you suck at dating," Stiles concluded. "You don't want to because you think you met your mate and she's gone." Derek remained silent, refusing to look back at the boy. "You're not going to help me, are you?"

The smell of salt wafted up his nose and he glanced back at the boy. Amber eyes shone bright through tears, long fingers gripping the hem of his shirt as Stiles gave him a longing stare, his lower lip stuck between his teeth to keep from trembling. His wolf whined in the back of his head as sadness and despair hit him.

Either this kid was a damn good actor or that champagne seriously messed with his emotions.

"Where did you last see the demon?"

 **A/N:** I hope you enjoyed this one! More is on its way! Let me know what you thought!


	2. Chapter 2

The room reeked of sweat, panic, and fear with a hint of sage and cinnamon. Derek could pick out a few other scents, but they were too faint and he didn't want to waste time on trying to decipher them. Except for the one he couldn't ignore - sulfur.

"You weren't lying," he stated, taking in the dirty clothes scattered across the floor, the unmade bed and the messy desk.

Stiles flailed from across his room, smacking his hand against the desk and cursing. "Why would I lie?" Derek raised an eyebrow and decided to ignore the young man, focusing instead on the scents around him.

"It was standing here." Derek was talking more to himself, but he felt the human's eyes on him as he moved closer to the desk. "It wasn't here for long, though. The scent of sulfur isn't strong."

"It did only happen earlier today, so it-"

"Doesn't matter," Derek interrupted, glancing around the room again. "Werewolves have heightened senses. Depending on the smell and how strong it is, we can make pretty good estimates of timeframes."

"Dude, that's so cool!"

The werewolf turned his head toward the bedroom door when he got a whiff of bitter distress. He followed it out of the room, down the hall and to an open doorway, ignoring Stiles rambling behind him. He pushed the door open further and the scent of distress got stronger, stinging his nose.

"This is my dad's room. Why...?"

"He put up a fight," he affirmed as he scanned the barren room.

The boy pushed past him, stopping and shifting nervously a few feet away. But when he spoke, his voice was firm and confident, "Of course he would. He's a cop."

Derek nodded, using his senses to try to find anything else that would be out of place. The bed was in a disarray, miscellaneous items on the nightstand knocked over, the closet door set at an awkward angle.

"It happened early in the morning." Derek slowly paced the room, taking in every little detail. "He stumbled around a bit, probably didn't have the light on."

"He had to work a double shift yesterday," Stiles replied. "He usually gets home around one or two in the morning after one of those, sometimes even later."

Derek made a small noise of acknowledgement in the back of his throat when a shiny glimmer caught his eye. He crouched down by the bed to find the source, reaching his hand out across the carpet. His fingers tapped against cold metal and he lifted it up to get a better look.

"That's my dad's badge," Stiles whispered, the fresh smell of salt dancing through the air. The werewolf glanced over at him then stood and placed the badge in the young boy's hand.

"We'll find him." He relaxed his tense muscles slightly in favor of attempting to give the human a soft, genuine look when those amber eyes met his. "Can't have you losing your job now, can we?"

Stiles lips quirked up into a grin. "No, we can't."

Derek took a step back and gave the room one more glance over. "There's not much else here. But I know someone who may be able to help. You got a car?"

Stiles snorted and wandered back to his room, grabbing a set of car keys off his desk. "Do I have a car? Psh!" Derek followed him out of the house and over to a blue, dying monstrosity parked in the driveway.

He stopped in front of it and raised both eyebrows. "This is your car?"

"Don't! Roscoe can hear you!" Stiles glared at him, hand on the driver's door handle, the other one holding his keys and pointing a finger at him.

Derek rolled his eyes and climbed into the passenger seat. He barely paid any attention to the human as his thoughts drifted to the demon, a demon who knew too much about him. He had been honest when he'd told Stiles he didn't know much about demons and he didn't particularly care to know more. But this one... This one he wanted to know as much as possible.

"Hello?" A hand waved in front of his face and he blinked, jerking his head back and grabbing the wrist tightly. "Ow, ow, ow! Fragile human here!" Derek immediately let go and watched the boy rub the appendage, holding it close to his chest. "Did you really have to do that? That freaking hurt, dude!"

"Start the car," Derek said, turning his attention out the passenger window. The boy grumbled, but it was barely heard over the roar of the engine as it came to life. He stayed silent during the drive, only speaking to give Stiles directions.

After a short while, they pulled up to a small building, the parking lot vacant in the early morning light. Derek stepped out of the car and made his way to the front door, barely acknowledging Stiles stumbling and flailing after him. He gripped the door handle and pushed on the door.

Locked.

"Uh, why are we at the vet's office?" Stiles inquired from beside him. Derek ignored him in favor of slamming his shoulder against the door, shoving it open and leaving part of the door frame slightly cracked. "Dude!"

"Derek," a calm, steady voice met his ears as he stepped into the small waiting room. He looked over in the direction the voice had come to see a bald man standing behind the counter, giving him a blank stare. "It's a bit early, don't you think?"

"We need your help." The man's eyebrows raised when Stiles stepped in behind Derek.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What do you know about demons?"

The man pursed his lips together. "They're very dark creatures, Derek. I'm not sure you want to know."

Derek opened his mouth to respond, but Stiles beat him to it. "Hey, dude, I'm trying to find my dad and Derek said you might know something. Can you just help us out?" The man gave Stiles a displeased look and the boy fidgeted. "I'm Stiles, by the way."

Derek growled when the man didn't say a word, just looked at them with that unreadable expression. "Deaton. I'm asking nicely."

Deaton let out a heavy breath and moved toward the back room, motioning for them to follow. "There's a wide variety of demons out there. They all have their own powers, tricks, disguises... They're surrounded by black magic, summoned from it. People believe they come from Hell, which some do. But others come from your worst nightmare, the desires of your heart. Because of this, it's nearly impossible to track one down."

"Great, so, you're saying my dad's gone forever," Stiles said as they crowded around a small surgery table. "That's fantastic. Just what I needed in my life."

"Stiles," Derek snapped, arms folded over his chest. "Shut up." The werewolf turned back to the veterinarian, easing his glare ever so slightly. "This idiot summoned one for fun and it kidnapped his dad. Then it sent him my way and told him he had to help me find a mate or it'd kill his father. What kind of demon would that?"

Deaton looked down, his brow pulled down into a thoughtful expression. "Hm. It definitely seems like a trickster to me. It could easily be one from a nightmare or his past."

"No. I would've recognized her."

Deaton snapped his eyes up to the young man in surprise. "You saw it?"

Stiles nodded. "She told me everything I needed to know to do her bidding, I guess. Stood in my room and everything. Looked super real."

"Can you describe what it looked like?"

The human twiddled his fingers as he gazed up at the ceiling, his face set in a concentrated expression. "She was skinny with long blonde hair. Wore a lot of black. She had this weird, creepy grin on her face and her eyes were pitch black, not even a speck of light reflected from them. Had some gunholsters on, but they were empty."

Derek's blood ran ice cold, his eyes locked on Stiles as his heart slammed against his chest.

No. It couldn't be.

"She wasn't see-through or had any dark mist surrounding her?" Stiles shook his head as he looked back at the man across from him. "Then it wasn't just a nightmare. She had been a living person at some point. Probably came straight from Hell." Deaton glanced at him. "Derek, would you like to share something with us?"

Stiles turned sharply to him. "You know something?"

Derek glared icily at the older man. "No. It just sounded familiar."

"Oh." The human reverted his attention back to deaton. "So, what can you deduce from this?"

Deaton shifted slightly, looking between the two. "Like I said, it's a spirit that was cast down to Hell. If you summoned her, she must be tethered to you somehow."

"Is there a way to get rid of her?"

"There are many ways to get rid of demons. However, seeing how she may not be a demon, but rather a spirit... Well, that may be a little harder. I'll look into it and let you know what I find."

"Thanks, doc."

Deaton nodded and showed them the way out, grabbing Derek's attention at the very last second when Stiles was already out by his jeep. "Derek. Be careful with that boy."

Derek's jaw clenched and he stepped outside without another word. Stiles revved the engine once the werewolf was inside, staring out the windshield. "So what now?"

"Now we wait."

"We-Are you kidding me?" Stiles swivelled in his seat, eyes wide. Derek raised an eyebrow at the frantic movement. "You have no clue how to help me find my dad, so your best idea is to go to some creepy animal doctor, ask him if he knows anything and then wait when he basically gives us nothing to start with?! Are you serious?"

Derek's voice was surprisingly calm when he responded, "I told you, I've only heard stories. Deaton isn't just a veterinarian. He knows about the supernatural, more than he lets on. He can get us information." Stiles shook his head, then slammed on the accelerator, speeding toward town. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere I can do my own research."

"You don't trust me."

"I just met you! Of course I don't trust you!"

"And yet you know so much about me where I know next to nothing about you."

"Touché." Derek rolled his eyes and stared out the passenger window. "What do you want to know about me?"

"Nothing."

"It's only fair, dude."

Derek looked back at the boy, but he was focusing on driving, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his leg as it jittered slightly. "When did you find out about your magic?"

"Why that question first?" Stiles huffed, reducing his speed the further into town he got. "It happened when I was having a panic attack a few years ago. I ended up hurting myself on accident and it snapped me out of it really quick." He side-glanced over at Derek. "Don't ask."

Derek's lips twitched upward in amusement. "Did you find someone to help train you?"

"Nope. I taught myself. I'm nothing spectacular though. Just know a few things here and there."

"Like teleporting."

Stiles gave him a cheeky grin. "Yeah, that was pretty great. Haven't done that since high school."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-two." Stiles pulled his jeep into a parking spot and turned the engine off. Derek noticed he hadn't asked him the same question as they walked into the library.

"Did the spirit tell you how old I am?"

Stiles made a bee-line for the computers, tossing over his shoulder, "Nope."

"You don't want to know?" Derek questioned as he stood beside Stiles, watching him settle into the seat and start the computer up."

"Sure I do. But you're asking questions about me, remember?" Derek blinked, but didn't respond. He watched the boy start typing furiously on the keyboard, then attack the mouse as his eyes moved quickly across the screen. He sat there for a few minutes, just enough time for Derek to glance around the empty library. "Found something!"

Derek bent over, resting one hand on the desk beside the keyboard and the other on the back of the chair. He felt Stiles' eyes on him, but he focused on the screen, trying to find whatever the boy had found. "What is it?"

"Oh, right, um. Right here." He moved the mouse and highlighted a small paragraph. "It says how you can summon a spirit to where you are and how to get rid of it. I think it might work."

"Confrontation? Won't that just upset it?"

"It might. I can keep looking if you want, but we're just wasting time that we could be using to find my dad."

Derek hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. Let's try it."

"Okay, sweet! Now we just need to find a good place to summon her."

A heavy feeling settled into Derek's gut, his wolf restless in the back of his mind. Something inside of him screamed that this was a horrible idea, but another part of him wanted Stiles to stop smelling of anxiety.

He was so screwed.


End file.
